


Playing House

by gaialux



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, Domestic, Frottage, Jealousy, M/M, PWP, Post-Series, Vanilla Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-24
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-24 11:54:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/939717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaialux/pseuds/gaialux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They try and act like a normal couple, and go in search of a house. Two brothers...a normal couple? Riiight.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing House

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the DW kinkbingo square of "vanilla kink". There's also a slight incest kink edge to this (or maybe reverse incest kink, hmm...). (A/N at the bottom contains season 8 spoilers - the fic itself does not).
> 
> Supernatural does not belong to me. This piece of fiction was written for entertainment purposes only, no profit is gained.

“This house has so much versatility for first time home buyers!”

She’s elated by everything, Dean noted early on. The freshly mowed lawn, the cutesy ‘welcome’ mat at the front door, the chime of the doorbell she pressed  _three freaking times_  before Dean insisted they wanted to see  _inside_  the house. Now it’s knowing that Sam and Dean are in their forties and never owned a home before.

“So how long have you been together?” She gushes as they’re urged down the hall and into the first room. A living area, couch and television and bookshelf. All very basic, all very  _display_. The generic paintings and flowers on the coffee table cement the deal.

“As long as I can remember,” Sam tells her.

Dean shoots him a look, because that’s either the cheesiest or stupidest thing Sam’s ever said and he’s not interested in finding out the repercussions if it’s the latter, but the realtor just smiles at them and says “How sweet.” Dean feels like gagging.

“We’re getting closer and closer to marriage equality in this state,” she continues. “Hopefully, one day…” Then she gets this far-away misty look in her eyes and Dean turns to Sam with a mouthing of  _what the fuck_? She can’t be real.

But Sam, he’s got a friggin  _smile_  on his face. Everyone around him is crazy, Dean decides, and he all but stomps into the adjoining room, a small kitchen that is just as barer the living room with only cupboards and a stove. Small, but still bigger than all those from the motel rooms they’ve lived in all their life.

“While it’s small,” she tells them, “There’s still a lot of potential for some great meals to be cooked here.” She always talks about ‘potential’ and ‘versatility’. Dean figures all this is real-estate code-talk for ‘in severe need of fixing up’. “Are either of you much for the culinary side of things?”

There’s a warm arm around Dean’s waist before Sam voices the answer. “This one loves experimenting in the kitchen.”

And, yeah, that did it, the woman turns into the colour of cherry pie and Dean’s not sure whether to join her or start laughing until he can no longer breathe. He settles on what probably looks like a strange smile and wriggles his way out of Sam’s hold.

She only takes a moment to compose herself, professional and all that, and that trademark saleswoman smile comes back to her face and she’s leading them back out into the hallway. “As you know, it’s two bedrooms, so you have the extra storage space, or…”

Dean bulks and Sam’s back at his side, this time his hand against Dean’s hip and he knows it’s not moving. Firmly planted with his fingers splaying out, warming over his shirt and swirling in the bottom of his stomach. Sam just  _gets_  to him, and it’s both pathetic and awesome at the same time. Totally not the right time or place now, though.

He seems to get to her, too, because she might be composed and all but there’s still a blush rising around her cheeks and her eyes seem firmly on Sam. Dean leans further into him and pulls Sam back into walking.

They’re not really about to buy this house, Dean’s sure of it. Sam just got it into his head that they’re halfway retired from hunting and should start looking around for something more permanent. The way he said it, more offhand than anything, is what clinched Dean into thinking it’s a pipe-thrill to fill in the monotony of motel room after motel room. There’s only so many times you can look at the largest ball of twine in the USA.

 Like the rest of the house, both rooms are set up for the cosy family. The double beds have floral-print covers and there’s more flowers sitting in vases. Outside he’s almost certain there’s going to be a whole freaking nursery full of them.

The novelty’s long worn-off for Dean by now, but Sam’s still got some excitement in his voice. And he’s talking finances. They might be a couple now, but Dean still thinks Sam can be pretty friggin’ weird sometimes.

“The price, it’s quite a deal, isn’t it?”

The woman nods, enthusiastic. “One of the best price ranges you can have in such a great community. It really is the deal of a lifetime, Mr. Rockford, and you’re the first couple to check it out.”

“Hmm.” Dean looks at Sam, who’s got the look of I’m-thinking-real-hard on his face. Dude better not be actually thinking about purchasing this white-picket-fence hole in the wall. “Do you mind if we take a look around? Just while you get all the paperwork.”

“Oh, uh, yes -- yes. That’s fine.” She stands there for a moment longer before striking them a huge grin and Dean feels as though he’s been left out of something important. “Look around, see if you like it, and we can secure you as a potential buyer.” With that her grin widens even more - Dean didn’t think that could be possible - and all that fills the house is her high-heels clicking along the wooden floor.

Sam’s grip tightens on his hip and he pulls Dean into one of the bedrooms, the one with the pink bedspread and sunflowers in a bright blue vase. Not that he’s paying much attention, not when Sam’s mouth comes to wet and heavy against his and his face blocks out all other sights.

 _Now_ the game plan all makes sense to him. Sometimes it takes him awhile to click onto things, but he seems to get to the important parts eventually.

Still, he pulls away from Sam. “Is she, uh, allowed to let us do this?”

“Doubt it,” Sam says. “But I’m pretty sure she’s got a thing for me.”

Dean growls low in his throat and presses his knees hard against Sam’s until his brother finally relents and falls back against the bed, bouncing on the too-soft mattress that is almost certainly there for display purposes only. Dean follows him on, lips connecting again as he presses Sam deeper onto the bed.

“Never took you for the jealous type,” Sam says, a little breathless. “Interesting.”

“Clothes _off_ ,” Dean demands, and starts tugging at his own shirt.

For once Sam listens to Dean, and they’re soon surrounded in remnants of shirts and jeans and boxer-briefs, joined with a shoe Dean kicks across the room and thumps into the wall.

“Better not have marked that,” Sam tells him.

“We’re _buying_ this place, remember?” Dean wiggles his eyebrows and leans down to mould their mouths together again.

Somehow Sam manages to roll them over and pin Dean beneath him, his hands reaching down to pulls Dean up, clasping both his wrists together above his head. Dean flexes his fingers but can’t move the rest of his hands. Maybe once it would’ve scared him, but for now it gives him an excuse to let Sam take the lead.

“We don’t have long,” Sam warns.

“Then get going.” So Sam takes control and Dean tests it, what else is new?

He suspects Sam would usually want to drag this out following Dean’s words, but they’ve got no time for this right now and instead Sam grinds down against him, both cocks already hard and Dean chokes out at “ _fuck_ ” at the friction.

“ _Should_ buy a house,” Sam mumbles by his ear. “Settle down. Ge’ married.”

Dean groans, and he’s not sure if it’s from pleasure or annoyance. Yeah, married, because that’s really gonna happen between two brothers. “Jus’ hurry up.”

Sam sits himself up again and grips Dean’s wrists with just one hand, the other reaching down to grasp both their cocks and tug. That’s an even better feeling, and Dean forgets about being annoyed long enough to bucks his hips up further into Sam’s touch.

“What’dyou think she’d do if she knew we were brothers?” Sam stops moving his hand long enough to ask.

“I don’t know, Sam,” Dean says, trying to find some lasting friction. “And I don’t care. Not much time - you said it yourself. _Move_.”

He gives a little, a twist of his wrist under the head of Dean’s cock and Dean sinks into the bed, mouth open in a soundless moan.

“D’you think of me as your _brother_ or your _boyfriend_?” Sam sounds almost fucking thoughtful now, like Dean’s not hard and naked and pliable beneath him. Like he said before, Sam can be friggin’ weird sometimes.

“Right now you can be whatever the fuck you want,” Dean says, trying to regain some motion of breathing. “Just _move_.”

He doesn’t. “Brother, isn’t it?” Dean lifts his head enough to see Sam’s face. “Right now I want you to think of me as your _boyfriend_. Sam Rockford, okay? _Boyfriend_.”

“Okay, Rockford, now please just fucking _move_.”

And he does, finally. Sam swipes his hand over both of them and rocks his hips forward, pure friction all mixed up with the slickness of precome and Dean’s fingers keep flexing in Sam’s grasp, wanting to break free so he can pull Sam closer against him, get _more_ of it. _More, more more_ like a silent fucking chant.

A chant that Sam somehow hears, because he gives. He grips tighter, thrusts harder, and Dean arches up as he falls apart and Sam’s follows a blink-moment later, dick pulsing against Dean’s and coating his thigh warm and sticky.

Sam releases his wrists and Dean’s hands fall to Sam’s back, touching the sheen of sweat coating him. He’s probably exactly the same, so bites his tongue on saying anything.

Here they are: in some house they’ve got no intention of buying, on a bed they haven’t even paid a night’s rent for, and Dean’s meant to be thinking his baby brother is his boyfriend. The world, it just got a whole lot more fucked up.

And Dean? He kinda likes it.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, it kind of disregards the whole "Men of Letters HQ" thing. Eh...
> 
> Also, re: not naming the real-estate agent, did it work? Or is it just annoying? Potential stylistic experimentation and all that...


End file.
